


I Felt Bad, and You Felt Worse

by mpmottley



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Drinking, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 00:32:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mpmottley/pseuds/mpmottley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Effie and Haymitch drink together the first night of the 75th Hunger Games</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Felt Bad, and You Felt Worse

**Author's Note:**

> Request for Haymitch waking up in Effie’s bed from doubleagentvesperlynd on tumblr.
> 
> Beta’d by the most wonderful hidden-under-the-desk on tumblr.

 

Effie joined him on the couch about ten minutes after Peeta was revived. She kind of just dropped next to him and kicked her shoes off in the most stressed out way he’d ever seen her. He stared at her for a moment, but she focused dead on the screen showing the games, breathing heavily and looking clearly as if she did not want to talk about it. He turned back to the screen and watched images of Katniss wandering through the forest and Joanna leading Wiress and Beetee around for a while. Effie seemed to be calming, at least her breathing wasn’t audible any more. It was late evening, maybe nine, but It had been a long day and Haymitch felt exhaustion weighing down on him. He was torn because he knew that he should keep a close eye on his team. They were slowing and would soon make camp. Katniss was looking so worn and tired, and he couldn’t tell if it was the games or if she was putting on a show of pregnancy symptoms. Finnick says something about “her condition”. Peeta looked reserved. Effie snatched his whiskey out of his hand.  
"Hey." he protested and jerked to look at her. She was drinking it. Well, she was much more than drinking it, she downed the thing in one go and he sure as hell was impressed. He looked at her for a long moment in which she still didn’t look at him and then he got up to get himself another drink. To his back she requested he bring her another drink and he was happy to oblige. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her drink before and if he was honest he thought she deserved to relax for once. This year’s games had been… hard on her, to say the least. Nobody said anything but he, for one, had seen her tears, her struggle to read off the names, he knew. He’d been there after the reaping to see the look in her eyes that he’d seen in far too many victors. He didn’t know how she handled the knowledge of sending children to their death all these years.  
When he returned to the couch she’d pulled her feet up beside her leaning toward where he’d been seated. He’d made her a cocktail that he thought she’d like, it was a bit on the sweet side, and less strong than what he was drinking. He looked at the screen as he handed her the glass and watched Katniss rasp out “water”, stirring pang of guilt in him. He’d thought ahead and had already organized some sponsored funds. He left Effie to watch with the reassurance of his return before long and went to do what he had to to keep Katniss alive.  
Upon his return, Effie was slouched into the couch cushions and had removed her jacket and hosiery. He looked her over and may have laughed if he hadn’t immediately noticed that her make-up was smeared ever so slightly under her eyes. She’d clearly been crying but had attempted to fix it rather unsuccessfully.   
"Haymitch, please don’t stare it’s not polite." She sighed. It took him a moment but then he caught on. She was in no way sober. She’d gotten to the point where she’d drank enough to want nothing but to be comfortable and take a nap. He’d only been gone the better part of an hour but she seemed to have downed the cocktail he left her with and more. He let himself fall into the cushions with his own drink, beside her.   
———————————————  
Haymitch woke, for once, on his own accord rather than as a result of the nightmares. These mornings were few and far between but always a relief nonetheless. They made him think that maybe he could eventually regard the nightmares as the rare occasion. He sat up groggily and rubbed his eyes. He was thirsty, as he always was when he drank himself to sleep. He dropped his palms lazily and opened his eyes and… he was not in his room. He looked around, slightly confused, and then he saw his shirt on the floor.  
Along with his pants…. and Effie’s dress.  
Well, it was going to be an interesting day to say the least.


End file.
